The Jacob and Bella Drabbles
by audreyii-fic
Summary: A collection of drabbles/oneshots written from LJ prompts. Quick, dirty, and unedited. Full spectrum of genres. In other words, tiny little J/B shooters.
1. Sweet and Silly Prompts 1

_**A/N**: These are drabbles that I've written up for various prompts on LJ. They were all written very fast (two hours or less) and had little to no editing - hence the rough feel of it all. I wasn't that big a stickler about keeping them in character. And many are frankly very silly. In other words - they're definitely not perfect. I kind of like them that way.

* * *

_

_QUEMBRY. DONE / hmmm, what about Bella playing strip poker with Jake and some of the pack members? / Quill and Embry invite Bella to play a new game, Bella totally pwns them._

**[standard New Moon AU - Cullens never come back. set in the future. Humor. Rated G.]**

_

* * *

_When Jacob comes home, he's not surprised to see Embry at the refrigerator. Embry and Quil sort of drop in whenever they feel like it, because Bella has taken over as Pack Cook since Emily is now too pregnant to reach the burners on the stove.

What _does_ surprise Jacob is that Embry is stark naked.

In _his and Bella's home_.

_With Bella giggling in the next room._

Jacob is not known for the most rational reactions when it comes to his fiancee, and finding one of his best friends at home with her, naked, rooting through his refrigerator, does not inspire cool, collected thinking. Which is why Embry is instantaneously slammed against the wall, held a foot off the floor by his neck.

"You're dead," Jacob growls. Embry, even while being choked, manages to roll his eyes. The noise he sputters through his closed throat is sarcastic.

Quil's voice from the next room. "Aw, come _on!_"

"Don't blame me if you can't bluff." Bella.

Jacob lowers Embry back to the floor, thoroughly confused. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"_Not_ what you're thinking." Embry rubs his throat (the bruises heal almost instantly) and glares. "Dude, didn't anyone ever tell you that when you _assume_ you make an ass out of you and me?"

"You don't need my help to be an ass," Jacob replies automatically, walking around the corner to look into the dining room of their apartment. Bella is sitting calmly at the table, watching an annoyed Quil pull off his pants, revealing tighty-whities. "Uh, Bells?"

"Oh, hey, Jake." Bella smiles as though Quil and Embry are just over for a piece of pizza and a chat, rather than getting naked. "How was work?"

"Fine," Jacob replies, now completely operating on autopilot. "Hey, Quil."

"Your girlfriend cheats," Quil grumbles as he tosses his shorts into a pile of clothes.

Embry frowns. "Hey, why doesn't _he_ get thrown against the wall?"

Bella glances from Embry to Jacob, then shakes her head. "Oh, Jake, you didn't think _that_, did you?"

"What else was I supposed to think?" Jacob says defensively as Embry hands Quil a beer. "And if not _that_, then what the hell is going on?"

Bella gestures to the table, to the stacks of playing cards. "They thought they could beat me at poker. _Strip_ poker."

Jacob looks at Quil and Embry, who are drinking their beers, in underwear and naked respectively, and starts to laugh. "You guys are _idiots_."

"We know that _now_," Embry says, scowling. "She didn't lose so much as her hoodie!"

"She cheats!" Quil adds. "She _has_ to cheat! No one can win that many times in a row!"

"I just have a very good poker face," Bella says blandly, shuffling the deck. "Jacob, do you want to be dealt in?"

"I'll pass," Jacob says, grinning. "I know how good you are." He, in fact, knows that she _does_ cheat at cards. He decides not to share that tidbit of information.

"I'm going home to lick my wounds," Embry says. He is now actively pouting. "I don't care what you're cooking for dinner, nothing is worth this."

"It's lasagna."

Quil and Embry both pause.

"With sausage," Bella adds.

The boys glance at each other, shrug simultaneously, and sit down on the couch. "Fine," Quil says. "But you're evil. Just so you know."

Jacob raises his eyebrows at Bella, and she winks at him. And he presses his lips together to keep from laughing again.


	2. Sweet and Silly Prompts 2

_Bella running into a naked Jake (maybe he took a shower), her being embarrassed to no end (of course) and Jake being all cool about it (of course), provoking her a little. _

**[standard New Moon AU - Cullens never come back. Romance/Humor. PG-13.]**

_

* * *

_Jacob and Bella stared at each other. Bella's embarrassment was obvious; having whiter-than-white skin meant that every single flush showed, and her face was red from her hairline to her collar. Jacob had the benefit of darker, russet-colored skin, which meant that if he was blushing, no one could really tell - unless they were very, very close. Bella wasn't close enough to tell. But she was plenty close all the same.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jacob cleared his throat. "You know, Bells, there's this thing. It's called a door. Generally people knock on it before coming into someone else's house."

"I _did_ knock!" Bella's voice was an octave higher than usual as she tried to look somewhere, _anywhere_ other than at her wet, naked best friend. "No one answered!"

"That," Jacob pointed out, "was because I was in the shower."

"I can _see_ that," Bella said, gesturing, trying not to _actually_ see, wanting to look anyway. It wasn't like she was _dead_, Jacob was attractive, she'd see him shirtless enough times to know, it wasn't like it was some great surprise, but _naked_, totally, _completely naked_ was something else entirely... "Jeez, Jake, go put some pants on."

Jacob crossed his arms. "This is _my_ house, Bella. I should get to walk around in it without pants on if I want to. If _you_ don't like it, that's _your_ problem." If Bella wasn't staring at the ceiling, she'd see how hard Jacob was having to work to keep the grin off his face.

"Yeah, but... but..." Bella studied a crack in the plaster, trying to come up with a response. "It's... _impolite._"

"...impolite."

"Yes! You're being a bad host! You have a guest and you're not wearing pants!"

"Bella, you _let yourself into my house._ I think you forfeited the right to the rules of common courtesy."

She finally dropped her eyes from the ceiling to glare at Jacob. "Okay, fine. I guess I'll just _go_ then. _Yeesh_."

Jacob's straight face finally cracked and he started to laugh. "No, Bells, don't go. I'm just kidding. I'll put on some clothes."

"Okay then. Thank you." Bella managed to sound both relieved and grateful... which took a little more work than expected. Considering there was a small but steadily growing part of her that would really, really prefer that her best friend be unclothed as often as possible. Still, she gawked, blinking as Jacob walked by her into the kitchen, still very, very nude (and for that matter, dripping on the floor. "Uh, so, clothes?"

"Just getting a glass of water," he tossed over his shoulder. "Showers make me thirsty. Then I'll put on some shorts. Can you survive til then?"

"You're a jerk," Bella said automatically, losing the battle with her hormones and staring at his ass. _Holy crow._ Was it getting hotter in here?

"Sure, sure. So, do you want some?"

"_What?_"

Jacob turned and grinned at her. "_Water._ Do you want some _water._"

"Oh." The flush had long turned crimson. "No. I'm good."

"Mm-hmm." And he gave her a long look that, as far as Bella was concerned, didn't hold nearly as much amusement as it should.

So she did the only thing she could. "I'm waiting on the porch," Bella declared, striding out of the room, her head held high.

Closing the front door didn't do much to muffle Jacob's laughter.


	3. Sweet and Silly Prompts 3

_Emily and Bella fight over something silly, the Pack gets caught in the middle. _

**[standard New Moon AU - Cullens don't come back. Humor. G.]**

_

* * *

_It was a standard beach cookout; the sort of informal thing that happened every couple of weeks, wherein everyone brought whatever food they had sitting around and fed it to the Pack, hoping against hope that for _once_ their ravenous wolf stomachs would be full for one damn night.

Bella tried _so hard_ at these things, and Jacob found it endlessly adorable. She was terrified of always being viewed at the Vampire Girl; that the Pack would never think she was good enough; that her clumsiness and her whiteness and her outsiderness and whatever else she felt was wrong with her would forever keep her from being accepted as Jacob's... whatever she was. (An admission of romantic emotions and several makeout sessions had not been enough to get her to say the word "girlfriend." Jacob was okay with that. Words were a lot harder for her than emotions, and as long as she _felt_ like his girlfriend, he didn't mind waiting for her to say it out loud.) Bella had picked up on the intuitive idea that the best way to a wolf's heart is through his stomach, and so while everyone else woulf show up with packs of nearly expired hot dogs and store brand sour-cream-and-onion chips, she would bring giant trays of "I'm sorry I was in love with your mortal enemy and that you all had a bunch of trouble because a bloodsucking sociopath was hunting me specifically and that I'm a pale sickly human who is generally inferior to you in all ways, so please don't hate me" double chocolate chip brownies. And pineapple marinated pork chops. And bacon scalloped potatoes. And whatever else she could think up. The Pack loved it, Bella glowed, and nothing Jacob could say would convince her that Hey, honey, they liked you _before_ you broke out the gourmet cookbook.

And that night, when things went south, it goes without saying that it was _entirely_ Quil's fault.

They were all sitting around the fire, happily plowing through styrofoam plate after styrofoam plate of food, when Quil took a bite of Bella's offering for the evening and moaned through a full mouth, "Holy crap, these are the _best muffins I've ever tasted._"

Then Emily looked up. "Really?"

Quil, being full of sugar and possibly not that bright, nodded. "Oh, yeah. Best _ever_. What's in it, Bella? Cocaine?"

Bella flushed with pride in the firelight. "No, no. Just blueberries and pecans, and some pineapple juice instead of milk. I'm glad you like it." Then she caught the look on Emily's face - a bland, inoffensive, kind look - and added quickly, "Though I'm sure they're nowhere near as good as yours, Emily."

"Don't be silly," Emily replied pleasantly. "Mine are hardly anything. Yours are _much_ better."

Warning bells started to sound in Jacob's head.

"Yours are _way_ more than 'hardly anything,'" Bella said, shaking her head. "You make yours completely from scratch, right? I mean, I got my juice out of a can."

"Well, I suppose," Emily said, "but _canned_ juice is just as good as _fresh_, I hardly think that should count against you. It's all about the final taste, right?" She turned to Quil, who had gone white as a sheet. "Whose muffins are better, Quil? Bella's, right?"

Every single male around the campfire had frozen.

"Uh..." Quil said slowly, flecks of cinnamon crumble crust still on his chin.

"Quil, honestly," Bella said, "tell Emily her muffins are better. I mean, mine don't hold a candle."

Jacob met Sam's eyes and was alarmed to see that their strong, sure, Alpha leader looked just as terrified as everyone else. Somehow, God help them all, they'd wound up in the middle of a _girl thing_.

"Quil?"

"I... uh..." Quil mumbled, glancing back and forth between the two women, looking like a cornered rabbit. "They're... they're both good. They're exactly the same amount of good. You're both absolutely the same level of good baker and there's no difference at all. Ever."

Jacob began to scoot away from the fire.

"Quil," Emily said, still completely pleasantly, "that's sweet, but be honest. You can say Bella's muffins are better than mine. I'm not going to be offended."

Someone - it might have been Jared - squeaked.

"Maybe we should just put it to the group," Bella suggested, looking around, catching Jacob's eye. "C'mon, Jake, my muffins are _nothing_ compared to Emily's, right?"

Emily had turned to Sam. "Sweetie, will you _please_ tell Bella that her muffins are way better than mine?"

Oh. God.

Jacob was a brave man in many ways. He'd faced death, and heartache, and more painful trials than anyone could ask of a fully-grown adult, let alone a boy of sixteen years. But at this moment, his courage entirely failed him. "I'm going to go get some potato salad," he said, leaping to his feet. "Anyone else want some?"

"Me," Sam said, jumping up.

"Me too," Quil added, almost tripping over his feet.

"Me three."

"Potato salad. Yes. Potato salad sounds good."

"I _love_ potato salad."

"Potato salad is the _best_."

"Aw, that's nice, guys," Kim said, "but my potato salad really isn't anywhere _near_ as good as everyone else's."

* * *

After that night they went with pizza delivery instead.


	4. Sweet and Silly Prompts 5

_Jacob, Quill, Embry compete at the crain machine for the same toy._

**[mid-New Moon. pre-FURSPLODE!sion. Romance/Humor. PG.]**

* * *

"Oooo! The Claaaaaaaaaaaaw!"

"Shut up, Embry."

"Aw, Quil, look at him. Bella mentions that the stuffed rabbit is _cute_, and Jake drops _everything_ to... how much money has he put into this thing already?"

"Shut _up_, Embry."

"I don't know, he's gotta be down close to ten bucks."

"Pathetic."

"_Really_ pathetic."

Jacob took his hands off the controls and glared at his best friends. "You guys think you can do better?"

Embry grinned. "Why would _I_ blow money on getting a toy for _your_ girl?"

"_I_ would," Quil offered, shooting a glance back at their table at the pizza joint, where Bella was sipping a soda and flipping through the menu. "Last I checked, she wasn't _Jake's_ girl yet." (If looks could kill, Jacob would've turned Quil into a smoking spot on the floor.) "Besides, it's just a stupid claw machine. Just 'cause Jake's inept-"

"I am _not_ inept," Jacob snapped. "It's rigged. I'm going to get my tool box out of the car and-"

"It's not rigged, you just suck at this-"

Embry was laughing his ass off, and both Jacob and Quil turned to glare at him. "Ten bucks to the first person to get something out of the machine," Quil said.

"Done."

"You're on."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Bella wandered away from the table to find Jacob, Quil, and Embry all swearing at the claw. "You know those things are rigged, right?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm going to tip it over and kick in the window," Quil said, seething.

"How much money have you given it?" Bella asked, trying to catch Jacob's eye. (He looked up at the ceiling and whistled.) She shook her head. "Okay. You guys are done. C'mon, the pizza's on me."

"No," Jacob protested. "I took you out-" (Embry snorted) "-I'm paying."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. We're friends. I'll pay." (Embry laughed outright at the expression on Jacob's face at the 'friends' line.)

"We're sneaking back in after closing," Quil said, still glaring, "and beating the shit out of this machine. We're gonna go _Office Space_ on its ass."

"Whatever." Bella took Jacob's hand and tugged. "I'm hungry and there's pepperoni with your name on it. Let's go."

The boys trudged back to the booth, throwing dirty looks at the claw machine over their shoulder at they went, thirty-seven dollars and twenty-five cents poorer than when they began.


	5. Sweet and Silly Prompts 6

_Jacob and Bella go fishing with Charlie and Billy_

**[set pre-Twilight by, um, a lot. Romance/Humor. G.]**

* * *

Billy was at a total loss. He'd been a father for seven years now, and he thought he'd seen most things, but this one was new.

"But... _why_ did you put the worm in her hair, Jacob?" he said, flabbergasted.

His four year old son looked down somberly, scuffing the edge of stream bank with his Simba sandals. "'Cause she's pretty."

Billy glanced over at his best friend, who was standing ten feet away, trying to calm his hysterical six year old daughter (she kept clawing at her scalp and asking through huge, gulping sobs if there was still any slime on her head). Charlie looked up at him helplessly, and Billy shrugged. Sarah would know what to do, but Sarah was home with the twins, who were grounded. Again.

"Well... son, if you like a girl, you don't put worms in her hair, okay? They don't like that." Billy wondered if he'd ever done anything like that when he was four. Admittedly, it _sounded_ like something he'd do. "So... don't do it again."

Jacob nodded sadly.

Should he punish the kid? It wasn't as though Jacob had _meant_ anything by it. He was _four_. But still, this seemed like it deserved more than a pat on the back and a quick reprimand. "Okay, then. Go give Bella a hug and tell her you're sorry." The twins _hated_ it when they were told to do that - but Billy realized his mistake when Jacob lit up like Christmas had come early, and for a moment, he had a worrying premonition that this wouldn't be the last time Bella Swan left him unsure of what to do about his son.

Jacob walked straight over to Bella (who scowled at him and covered her head) and wrapped his arms around her chest. "I'm sorry I put a worm in your hair 'cause you're pretty," he said very seriously.

Bella looked up helplessly at Charlie, who looked up helplessly at Billy, who really, really wished Sarah was there to tell him what to do.


	6. Misc Prompts 1

_"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love." -Neil Gaiman_

**[mid-New Moon. Angst (and platonic for some reason, in spite of the quote. PG.]**

* * *

Sam loves his brothers. He's not sure whether it's because he _has_ to (some kind of Alpha thing) or if it comes from never having much of a family of his own. Regardless of the reason, he loves them. He bleeds for them. He'll die for them.

He loves it and hates it when they join the Pack.

Sam knows the minute Jacob has transformed – he feels it like a shockwave under his skin. Paul is out of town for the weekend; Jared is at a family thing, trying to get away as fast as possible. So it's only him and Embry at first, racing through the woods after the reddish-brown wolf, sending him calming thoughts and reassurance while getting slammed with nothing but waves of wordless panic in return. Jacob is beyond terrified and runs because he doesn't know what else to do. The terror makes Sam hurt. He wishes he could take it away. He can't. It doesn't work like that.

They corner him against a rock cliff. Jacob has phased back into human, not in control of his own powers, naked and shivering and wild-eyed in the dark.

Sam phases, and Embry follows his lead. "Hey, Jake," Embry says, stepping towards Jacob. Sam can feel Embry's terror; he hasn't seen anyone else go through this before. It's bringing back memories, and Sam bleeds for him, too, but one problem at a time. "It's gonna be okay, man."

Jacob presses his back against the granite wall, breathing too sharp, too fast.

Sam pulls on his shorts, pulls open the little bag he tied to his leg along with his clothes, pulls out a pair of scissors. "Embry, grab him," he orders. His face is impassive. His brothers need to see strength. He will not show them anything else.

Embry glances at the scissors. "What—"

Sam nods at Jacob's hair, full of twigs and burrs and half torn out of his head. "Gotta get it off before he phases again."

Embry swallows. "Okay. Okay, Jake, seriously, it's gonna be fine." And Embry lunges forward, grabs Jacob in a bear hug. Jacob fights, but he's crippled by panic, and it's almost too easy to pin him face down to the forest floor. Still, he's strong, and Sam has to hold a knee between Jacob's shoulderblades to keep him in place.

"Jesus, don't stab him." Embry sounds sick as Sam starts to hack at Jacob's hair. He probably doesn't remember when Sam had to do this to _him_, doesn't remember how Jared couldn't help because he was puking his guts out in the bushes.

"He'll heal." Sam's voice and hands are steady.

"_Dad_," Jacob sobs, struggling under the weight of his friends. "_Bella…_"

Sam manages to get off all the hair before Jacob spontaneously phases again, and a week later, Jacob only remembers flashes of the first night. Sam carries that memory so his brother doesn't have to, because he loves him, like he loves them all.

It's his job.


	7. Misc Prompts 2

_Unicorns and cupcakes_

**[standard New Moon AU - Cullens never come back. Humor. Rated PG-13.]**

**

* * *

**

"I want you to know," Jacob growled, "that the only reason I'm not killing you is because Charlie Swan will make it hurt more."

Quil gulped. "Don't tell him, Jake, c'mon, it was an accident-"

"An _accident?_"

"Those cupcakes weren't for her! She stole one while my back was turned!"

"They're chock'lit," Bella giggled. She was laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling in fascination while Embry kept one hand on her arm so she wouldn't roll onto the floor. Again. "I like chock'lit. Do you like chock'lit, Embry?"

"Yes, Bella," Embry said wearily.

Jacob kept glaring at Quil. "How many tabs did you put in each one?"

"Well, see, they were meant for _werewolf_ consumption-"

"How. Many."

"...three."

"_Fuck!_"

"She only took two bites before I knocked it out of her hand, though."

"D'ya see the unicorns, Embry?" Bella pointed at the ceiling. "They're soooo... maaaany... colors... and they sparkle like vampires!"

"Yes, Bella," Embry said.

"It'll wear off," Quil said. "Just, you know, give it an hour."

"She's talking about unicorns," Jacob said through gritted teeth.

"Well, unicorns are pretty!"

"I love unicorns," Bella sighed. "Do you love unicorns, Embry?"

"Yes, Bella," Embry said.

It was a long night.


	8. Misc Prompts 4

**Written for the Jacob Black 'n' Pack All I Want for Christmas Contest.**

* * *

_[New Moon. Arguably canon-compliant. Hurt/Comfort. G.]_

* * *

_you better learn your lesson yourself / nobody ever has to find out what's in my mind tonight  
Warpaint, "Undertow"  
_

* * *

**i.**

Charlie hadn't been kidding. Bella is a zombie.

Okay, it's not like she doesn't talk or anything. Jacob can carry on a conversation with her, sort of. It's mostly like this:

_Hey, Bella._

_Hi._

_How are you?_

_Okay. How are you?_

_I'm fine. School's kind of a mess, my biology teacher has it out for me because I argued about this one lab report-_ Jacob stops at that point because her eyes glazed over somewhere around _fine_ and now she's staring off into space again.

Overall it's shaping up to be a strange sort of Christmas dinner.

* * *

**ii.**

Billy announced on December twenty-fourth that the Swans would be coming over on December twenty-fifth. Jacob couldn't figure out why, but when he asked all Billy needed to say was:

_I want Charlie to talk to Sue and Harry._

Jacob understood.

The Clearwaters always came over for Christmas dinner (one of the few things that didn't change after his mother died when it felt like _everything_ had changed), and two months ago Leah Clearwater and Sam Uley broke up. The gossip had been tremendous.

_Did you hear? Just dumped her flat and now he's shacked up with that Young girl!_

_I know! Can you imagine how pissed Leah is?_

_I heard she almost set the house on fire burning the stuff Sam gave her._

_No way!_

And so forth.

Harry was at a loss with Leah, and Charlie was at a loss with Bella, and Billy wanted them to talk but Jacob was pretty sure they wouldn't be able to help each other much. Last he'd heard Leah wasn't staring off into space and Bella wasn't lighting things on fire.

* * *

**iii.**

Sue brings dinner and it's really good. Jacob _does_ think her turkey is a little dry (his mother always basted hers every twenty minutes and he can tell that Sue doesn't) but the cranberry sauce is great. He's hungry all the time these days - _all_ the time, no kidding, Billy can't keep enough food in the house - but for once he's not the only one wolfing down plate after plate. Leah and Seth are plowing through the food too, getting seconds and thirds and fourths of mashed potatoes.

Sue laughs about growing teenagers. Harry and Billy exchange mysterious looks. Rachel rolls her eyes as she loads up on steamed broccoli. Charlie picks at his stuffing. Bella doesn't eat at all.

Bella doesn't look like she's eaten in months.

After dinner the adults break up from the kids. Billy and Harry are muttering quietly to themselves in the corner; Sue has Charlie in the kitchen, talking to him in gentle tones. Rachel and Leah disappear into the twins' old room and every now and then Jacob hears a shouted curse or something that sounds like a sob. Seth falls asleep on the couch, OD'ed on tryptophan.

Bella stares out the window.

* * *

**iv.**

Jacob spent time with Bella when they were little; she was the pale, pretty girl who turned up in the summer and didn't tease him or leave him behind like his sisters did. She didn't talk much - and she obviously didn't really like being with her dad - but she'd play in the yard with him sometimes while their parents talked about whatever it was grownups talked about. He would build forts out of dead branches and she would come up with elaborate stories that always seemed to involve running away. She stopped coming when he was ten, just around the time his mother died (why wouldn't she stop coming then after all) but Jacob didn't forget about her.

So of course he was excited when he heard she was moving to Forks.

He ran into her on the beach; she was still pale and pretty, but this time she wanted _him_ to tell stories. He did. He would have even if she hadn't looked up at him from under her lashes that way, but it was definitely a bonus.

Then he went to her prom because his father was being insane and stupid but was offering up the last piece of the Rabbit as a bribe and who could say no to that? She looked different in the fancy dress, beautiful but very strange for her, and she was with the guy his father was freaked out about. And she was _with_ Cullen, not just with him but really _really_ with him, any idiot could see it.

Jacob was surprised by how much that sucked.

* * *

**v.**

_Bella?_

_Hmm?_

_Want to go see the Rabbit?_

_The what?_

_My car. Remember, I told you? My dad finally let me work on it because you bought the truck? You were keeping an eye out for parts?_

_Oh. All right._

Jacob's relieved when she follows him to the garage. At least there he can work on the engine while she sits. Better than awkward small talk, anyhow.

She sits on the work bench and watches.

_Okay, so the new spanner..._ He starts to babble just to fill up the silence. He pretends he's giving a lecture, pretends she's listening. But then again, maybe she is. Jacob's really not sure how much is getting through to her at the moment. He can talk about cars for hours, though, so it won't be too quiet. Jacob doesn't like quiet.

Twenty minutes later Bella speaks.

_You smile a lot._

He blinks and looks at her; she's got her head tilted to the side and she's looking at his face like it's an interesting puzzle. He realizes that she hasn't been watching him work on the engine, she's been watching _him_ and that's a different thing.

_I guess, yeah. Why wouldn't I? It's Christmas, right?_

_It is?_

Jacob's eyes widen.

**

* * *

**

**vi.**

When the Cullens left town Billy ordered fires be lit in celebration. Jacob managed not to call the old man a lunatic, but it was a near thing; anyway it would have just led to a lecture about respect and tradition and blah, blah, blah. Jacob was of the opinion that there were certain traditions that should be allowed to die. Like the ones that made no sense and forced him to humiliate himself at the prom in front of pretty girls.

Speaking of pretty girls...

Within a few weeks Charlie started calling Billy about Bella. Billy had had two daughters who had been through their share of breakups, and Jacob listened to him give advice on the phone, mostly comprised of assurances that it was all very normal, teenage girls were capable of a lot of drama and overreaction, it would pass. But every time Billy hung up the phone he looked grave.

Jacob wanted to go over and talk to her and see if he could help. Jacob was good at fixing things. Billy said no.

So all he could do was wonder until Christmas.

* * *

**vii.**

If it were anyone else he'd assume it was sarcasm, but this is Zombie Bella.

_Um, yeah. It's Christmas, Bells, didn't you know that? December twenty-fifth?_ ('Bells' rolls off his tongue without him even realizing it.)

_It's December?_

_Oh my God, yes, it's December. Please tell me you're kidding, Bella._

_Hmm._

Jacob is completely at a loss and more than a little freaked out. He sits down next to her on the work bench and peers into her eyes, weirdly enough _hoping_ that she's on drugs or something because if this is just naturally the way her head is working then that is _bad_.

Her pupils look fine, at least. But she seems... foggy. And she gazes at him like she's not quite sure he's really there.

Then she reaches up, lifts a lock of his hair from his shoulder, and starts absently braiding it.

Jacob freezes. He remembers Charlie mentioning something like this - that Bella will sometimes do things with her hands, like fold a napkin over and over and over. Charlie had said it during one of the more recent conversations, one of the ones where the word _hospital_ was used. At the time Jacob thought it was total overreaction, but now he doesn't blame Charlie for thinking _hospital_ because he's thinking it too.

He slides off the bench onto the floor, sits cross-legged in front of her, allows her pull the rest of his hair free from its rubber band. It falls over his back and his face, heavy and black and thick. Rachel's been nagging him to cut it. She offers to do it herself, says she can wield a pair of scissors just as well as their mother could. He won't let her.

Bella gently runs her fingernails along his scalp, combing out little tangles Jacob hadn't realized were there. She hums tunelessly to herself and his eyes drift shut.

They stay in the garage for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

**viii.**

The next time Jacob sees Bella it only takes about thirty seconds for him to realize that she doesn't remember Christmas at all.

A few weeks later, when Sam cuts his hair, he cries.


	9. Misc Prompts 5

_**A/N**: This is actually a proper fanmix. If you go to my LJ (linked on my profile as my homepage) you can see the artwork, the drabbles with much better formatting, and download the songs. It adds a lot._

* * *

hope in your hands: a jacob fanmix/drabble series.

canon-compliant.

* * *

**HEY SOUL SISTER**** /  
train**

_i knew i wouldn't forget you  
and so i went and let you blow my mind  
your sweet moonbeam  
the smell of you in every single dream i dream_

she shows up at your house with rusted motorcycles and wary eyes. you know what happened and you can see how it's been for her - it's not like you can't see it - but she's not _too _messed up, really. she's full of spiderweb cracks but she hasn't shattered. in your garage she drinks warm soda and she's funny, and she smiles at you like you're the only thing in the world that can make her happy.  
you're sixteen and kind of awkward from all the growing you've done recently but she smiles. at. _you__._  
you smile right back.

* * *

**COLORFUL**** /  
the verve pipe**

_i know this loser's living fortunate  
and i know you will love me  
yes, i know you will love me  
and i know you will love me either way_

you have to send her away and it almost ruins everything, but you climb in her window and you give her clues and she figures it out.  
she knows you're a monster. she comes back anyway.  
she's there holding on to your hand.  
you don't know how you got so lucky.  
she says she needs you - yeah, maybe, but you need her too. sometimes the need is so _much_ you can feel it swallowing your blood and breaking your bones. it's worth it though, because when she's at your side you think you might make it through this nightmare.

* * *

**BEST OF YOU**** /  
foo fighters**

_i needed somewhere to hang my head without your noose  
you gave me something that i didn't have  
but had no use  
i was too weak to give in, too strong to lose_

you begged.  
you begged and she _left_, ran to them like the past months didn't happen, like you hadn't just breathed life back into her body. you begged and she flew to _italy_ to walk into the lair of the fucking bloodsucker royalty.  
when she returns she's a different person, still full of heartbeats but determined to make them stop as soon as she can. and now she smiles at him like _he's_ the only thing that can make her happy. like you don't exist.  
you're not sure who you hate most - him, her, or yourself.

* * *

**LATEST HEARTBREAK**** /  
22-20s**

_back in the dark room he's waiting for you  
nursing a pain he designed and created for you  
here comes the latest heartbreak line  
straight for the weakness he goes_

she sends notes. you know you shouldn't read them. you do anyway.  
you keep reminding yourself that she's gone. the girl who held _his_ hand isn't the girl who sat in your garage, and the girl in the garage is the one you need. you miss that girl so bad your soul aches with it.  
then you have to pass on a message and while talking you catch a glimpse of the girl you remember. just for a second, you see her. she's still in there.  
that girl is _yours_ and you'll tear the world apart to get her back.

* * *

**ANGEL DANCE**** /  
robert plant**  
_  
big night, bright lights, time now to lay them under arrest  
put them under arrest  
bad guys, mean eye all gone away to where they belong  
let's just sing our song_

you pick her up at the treaty line and it's like it's _her_ again; she walks on the beach and holds your hand and you don't ache and you can tell she doesn't either. you know this girl. you know she needs you too.  
you say it out loud sometimes - _she_ can pretend, but you can't. when she tells you not to talk about it you kind of want to shake her.  
most of the time it's good, though. her hand in yours by the fire. it's good. it would _always_ be good if she would just stop fighting.

* * *

**AN END HAS A START**** /  
editors**  
_  
when you caught my eye i saw everywhere i'd been  
and wanna go to  
you came on your own, that's how you'll leave  
with hope in your hands and air to breathe_

he's going to kill her and that's the part you can't handle.  
she wants to be something she's _not_ and you love her the way she _is_. you're offering her _life_, _your _life_, _and now you're beggingagainbut she wants to be dead and cold and you don't understand _why_ and you're positive she doesn't either, when the girl in the garage disappears it will _destroy_ you, she _knows_ that, she _knows_ but she doesn't _care._  
rage is burning you alive and you kiss her because you don't know what to do.  
she breaks her hand on your jaw.

* * *

**VIOLET HILL**** /  
coldplay**

_i don't want to be a soldier  
who the captain of some sinking ship  
would stow, far below  
so if you love me, why'd you let me go?_

she's half-frozen and it's a lousy way to share a bed for the first time. you'll take it. you always take whatever scraps she offers.  
there's a lot of bickering because she doesn't like you right now and you don't like her much either, but when she closes her eyes her face softens and she's the girl in the garage again. she's asleep and clings unconsciously, spoons her body into yours then _god_ you want her, so much, so bad, frozen or not.  
he snaps at you. you remember he can read your mind. you aren't even allowed your fantasies.

* * *

**AWAKE MY SOUL**** /  
mumford & sons**  
_  
in these bodies we will live  
in these bodies we will die  
where you invest your love  
you invest your life_

you have to threaten her with your death the way she's been threatening you with hers but finally _she's_ the one begging, and her tears fill you with vicious triumph.  
the kiss starts out awful. even now she won't give you _anything_. but she's there, she's hiding right below the surface you _know_ she is, you can _feel_ her, maybe this isn't even worth it but you need the girl who smiled like _you_ were the only thing that could make her happy why won't she just...  
...then she's finally there with you and it's everything you've been dreaming of.

* * *

**WOULDN'T IT BE GOOD (ACOUSTIC)**** /  
nik kershaw**  
_  
i'm sick of fighting even though i know i should  
the cold is biting through each and every nerve and fiber  
my broken spirit is frozen to the core  
i don't wanna to be here no more_

at least you're high on morphine when she comes to finish you off.  
she cries. she admits she loves you, admits that part of her is yours, even if it's the smaller part. that's something. you tell yourself that's something, but none of it changes what will happen next. she's going to marry him, and then she'll let him suck the girl in the garage right out of her body.  
you gave her everything you had and it's not enough. _she'd rather die._  
he invites you to the wedding.  
as soon as your bones are healed you run like hell.


	10. Misc Prompts 7

_**[thoughts on Charlie's life. canon-compliant. heartfail/angst. language.]**_

_**Notes:  
The Twilight Illustrated Guide comes out today (coinciding with the sinking of the Titanic!), which means this canon-compliant set of drabbles is about to be **__non_-canon-compliant. Since my heart will die the moment that happens, I'm just going to post them now, even though the history is not finished and there's obviously huge gaps. I've been working on this on and off for six months and I just... need it to be out there before it can't be true anymore. *cries*

* * *

**October 1973**

You get suspended in second grade.

Derek Jones is a fifth grader and a bully. You lost your front teeth over three months ago and it is taking _forever _for the new ones to grow in, and Derek says something about it every single day. He makes fun of the girls with freckles and the boys with glasses. You hate him.

But one sunny recess, Derek finally bites off more than he can chew. He's just finished breaking all the chalk for the blacktop when he yells, "Hey, redskins!" at two of the Quileutes boys, then does a dance, punctuated by fake war whoops. Some of the kids laugh.

The two boys come running, but you're closer. You get to throw the first punch. Then all three of you are on top of Derek, and there's fists flying and legs kicking. In the struggle Derek loses one of _his _front teeth. And it was a grown-up one.

Derek has to go into the principal's office first, and you and the two Indian boys are sitting quietly on plastic chairs in the hallway, waiting for your turn. You've got Kleenex stuffed up your nose and you're going to be grounded for the rest of your life.

One of the boys, the taller one with a cut on his cheek, glances over at you. "You're in my class."

You nod. You're surprised he remembers you. You don't talk that much.

"I'm Billy," the tall boy says. He jerks a thumb at the stockier boy with the black eye. "That's Harry."

"I'm Charlie," you say, trying not to sneeze out the bloody tissue.

"Do you like fishing?" Harry asks.

You _love _fishing.

When your mother finds out _why _you've been suspended, you only get grounded for a week instead of for the rest of your life. (She's the one who looked you in the eye on the very first day of kindergarten and warned you that there would be kids there who looked different, or sounded different, or acted different, and if she ever heard a single thing about you being rude she would kick your butt into next month.) She even agrees to let you go play with Billy and Harry on Saturday, which is technically before your grounding is over. Your father gives you a long lecture about violence and appropriate behavior when he gets home, but you think your mother might be a little proud of you.

You never tell anyone that really, you got in the fight because you'd finally seen your chance to hit Derek Jones.

* * *

**April 1982**

The three of you are at the diner, bored and trying to stack a plate of french fries into a Jenga tower, when Sue Marten walks in. As she walks up to the register, Harry calls (loud enough to be heard by surrounding tables), "Hey, beautiful."

Sue turns slowly, her braided black hair shining under the unflattering overhead lights, and her glare is so vicious you're surprised Harry doesn't disintigrate into a pile of ashes. She approaches the table, and you exchange a glance with Billy. Billy looks like he's thinking of breaking open the window and making a run for it.

Harry just keeps smiling.

Sue leans over and places the flats of her palms on the table. "_You_," she hisses, her face an inch from Harry's. Their noses are almost brushing. "I hate you. You have got to fucking shut up. I can't get a fucking _date_ because _everyone _thinks I'm your girlfriend!"

"Well," Harry says, still completely calm, "why don't you just _be _my girlfriend?"

Billy flinches. You take a look at the stack of napkins on the table. You're pretty sure there will be enough to mop up the blood from Harry's inevitable broken nose, but it'll be close.

Several emotions seem to flit across Sue's face as she pulls back and stands up straight. Finally, after a long moment, she narrows her eyes and says, "Fine. Pick me up at nine on Friday." Then she turns on her heel and stalks right out of the diner without ever ordering anything.

The two of you gape at Harry, stunned beyond all words. He just shrugs and sips his Coke. "Told you."

* * *

**November 1987**

You knew you'd need to be prepared for sleepless nights and endless crying.

You just didn't expect it to come from your wife.

Bella is, near as you can tell from your limited experience, a very easy baby. By six weeks old she's sleeping for seven hours a night. She hardly ever spits up, and her wails are somehow... polite. Most of the time she just sits quietly in a lap or lies on a playmat, examining her own toes and figuring out how her fingers twist together. _She's _very straightforward and simple. (You find her far more fascinating than she finds you.)

It's Renee who's falling apart. She cries all the time, from when she wakes up in the morning until she goes to sleep at night. Sometimes it's loud, gasping sobs, but mostly it's just a constant stream of tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto Bella's forehead. At night she curls into a fetal position and hides her face under the covers; you try to stroke her arms or kiss her hair, but she only pulls farther away.

On a fishing trip one morning you finally ask for advice.

Harry assures you that it's all perfectly normal - Sue starts weeping whenever a sappy commercial for a long-distance plan comes on television.

Billy scowls and admits he hasn't had sex in a year; Sarah is still so exhausted by the twins that she won't even let him touch her. (Harry admits that that sounds weird, but Sue has his pants off at least four times a week, so he may not be the best judge. You can tell by the look on Billy's face that Harry will wind up with a black eye if he doesn't shut the hell up.)

Both of them, however, swear up and down that women just lose their minds a little right after a baby is born. All you have to do, they say, is keep your head down, say "Yes dear" a lot, and wait it out.

You feel a lot better after this, and you come home with a bouquet of roses. It just makes Renee cry harder.

* * *

**December 1988**

The ringing phone wakes you with a start; you grab the reciever off your nightstand, expecting the station. "Charlie Swan."

"Charlie?"

It takes you a moment to recognize the sick, slurred voice. "Billy? Is that you?"

"Charlie, man, can you come get me? I can't drive." Billy's words are running together. A quick glance at the clock tells you it's just after three in the morning.

"Uh, sure." You're already getting out of bed, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. Billy doesn't pull shit like this; something has to be seriously wrong. "Where are you?" He gives you directions for some bar a ways to the north, near the Makah reservation, and you're out the door in ten minutes.

Billy's sitting on the bumper of his car in the restaurant parking lot when you arrive, his forearms resting on his knees and his head hanging. When he sees you drive up in the cruiser, he stands and staggers - _staggers_- towards the passenger's side door. He gets in and the smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey rolls over you, stinging your nostrils.

You've seen Billy have a beer once in awhile. You have never seen him drunk. Not ever.

He buckles his seatbelt as you pull back onto the road. "Why _this _place?" is the only thing you can think of to ask.

Billy rubs his hand across his face. "I was at a tribal thing," he says. "Can I crash on your couch tonight?"

"Sure." You smile. "Don't want to get in trouble with Sarah?" You'd just meant to make a joke, but to your extreme alarm, Billy lets out a sob. An actual sob, like a kid. You almost drive off the road. "Jesus, Billy, what's wrong?"

"I fucked up, man," Billy says. He leans forward. His hair curtains his face. "I fucked up _so _bad, you have no idea." And he won't say another word.

The next morning you take Billy back north to get his car. He says that if Sarah asks, tell her that you and he spent the night watching the game and he fell asleep. He nearly begs. You say sure.

Part of you really wants to know what happened, but the rest of you is glad you don't.

* * *

**May 2000, Part 1**

You are the one who gets the call. There's been a car accident, all units report. (All units being you and Frank.) It's just after six in the evening, but the sky is prematurely dark from a storm that will be rolling in shortly. The roads are slick.

Later, you thank God that you weren't the first one on the scene, that you weren't the one who had to pull Sarah Black from behind the wheel of the mangled station wagon. It is bad enough seeing the stretcher being loaded into the ambulance, tiny spots of brown blood soaking through the white sheet covering her broken body.

The report is brief. She skidded on the wet pavement and slammed into a tree. Probably it was over quick. At least no one else was in the car. At least there's that.

Ted offers to be the one to break the news, but you refuse, of course.

The drive to the reservation is the longest of your life.

When Billy opens the front door, he looks frazzled; the sound of his screaming kids echoes from inside, and the crashing noise of something breakable being knocked to the ground. "If you're looking for dinner, I've got nothin'. Sarah's still at the store and the kids got into the Hershey bars. I'm getting too old for this."

Billy says that a lot. Billy is thirty-four.

"I'm not here for dinner," you say. "Come out onto the porch for a sec, will ya?" (You don't want the kids to overhear or see what's about to happen. It was a wise decision, you realize a few minutes later; no child should ever see their father on his knees.)

* * *

**May 2000, Part 2**

As the sun sets on the day of the funeral, after the last guests have gotten into their cars and pulled away, you realize you haven't seen Jacob in several hours. You check in Billy's room, where he is lying on his bed, still in his suit, Harry next to him holding his hand. _Is Jake in here? _you mouth, and Harry shakes his head silently in response. In the hallway you can hear the noisy sobbing of the twins through their thin door.

It's a testiment to how long the day has been that it takes you a full three minutes to think to check the garage.

You knock hesitently on the open door, not wanting to spook the kid. He's sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor with what looks like every tool in the garage spread out neatly in front of him. You watch as he picks up one of the smaller socket wrenches and cleans it carefully with an oily rag.

"Hey, Jacob," you say. "You wanna come inside?"

He shakes his head silently.

You don't have much experience with this fathering thing, so you'll have to wing it. You come in and crouch in front of the boy. He doesn't look up. "C'mon, Jake, it's really cold out here. Mrs. Clearwater left some soup on the stove, do you want some soup?"

"No. I have to finish this."

You glance down at the wrenches. They're gleaming under the bare bulb that lights the garage. "They look pretty good to me." When Jacob shakes his head again you wonder if maybe you should just pick him up and take him inside, but he's too old for that. Instead you ask, "Why are you doing this right now?"

The kid's little fingers move against the grooves of the metal, obsessively rubbing his cloth against the same spot over and over. "I didn't fix the car right."

"What?"

"I didn't fix the car right," he says again. "Dad let me help. I didn't do it right. Mom's dead."

"Oh," you say, because that's all that you can say, just _oh_.

He rubs the wrench harder as he mutters, "I'll fix it right this time."

"Jake, the station wagon's gone." (It had to be loaded onto the flatbed in pieces after being cut away from the tree.) "I'm sorry, son, but it can't be fixed."

"Yes it can. Just get them to tow it here. I can fix it. I won't mess up again."

You want to cry, but you're sure as hell not going to it lose it in front of a ten year old who's just buried his mother. "Jake, you didn't mess up. There wasn't anything wrong with the car, it was just a wet road, it's not anyone's fault-"

"_I can fix it!_" Jacob's shriek comes out of nowhere and echoes off the tin walls. "_I can fix it! I can!_"

In that moment you decide that ten isn't too old to be picked up after all, and you lift the kid into your arms and carry him back to the house, away from his tools. He fights you every step of the way.

That night you try to call Renee and Bella, but no one picks up.

* * *

**June 2000**

Billy doesn't do what you did; he doesn't just... stop. But his bravado and his temper are gone now. He doesn't know how to use them without Sarah there as balance. So even though he keeps going he seems less alive somehow.

You don't like it. "Should we be doing something?" you ask Harry after an afternoon of watching the game. Once again, Billy didn't yell at the television even once. It's damn eerie.

"He'll be okay. He'll come back from this."

"You think?"

"Yeah." Then Harry looks across the yard and the look on his face is solemn. You turn and see Jacob playing alone by the garage. "It's the kids I'm not so sure about," Harry says quietly.

* * *

**July 2000**

It's July and seventy degrees. Bella still looks like she's going to shiver to death. She's twelve now, and she begged you to let her just stay at home while you went fishing, but this time you didn't give in. You don't ask much of her - you don't even know _how _to ask much of her - but you're asking this.

You pull the cruiser into the parking lot at First Beach. Billy's van is already there.

"Look," you start. (Bella turns her face to the window and keeps her arms crossed.) "I want you to play nice."

"I'm not a _baby_, Cha- Dad."

You ignore that she nearly called you by your first name. You're used to ignoring that. "You remember that Sarah Black died, right?" A pain needles at you - pretty, sweet Sarah Early, gone forever.

"Yeah."

"Well, Rachel and Rebecca and Jacob are here today. They're... they're having a really rough time, Bells." You don't see the twins. You know Billy wouldn't have left them at home so they must be around somewhere, wandering off together and staying hidden like they do most of the time now. They have each other but forget about everyone else. They always leave the kid behind. "So I'd really appreciate it if you would be friendly, especially to Jake."

"He's a _boy_," Bella insists, but her expression is softer as she looks out at the figure sitting alone on one of the bigger driftwood trees.

"Yeah, but he's a boy who doesn't have a mom now."

_This _clearly sinks in.

By the time you've got your line out in the water Bella is settled in next to Jacob, talking about something or other, and the kid is hanging on her every word like it's gospel. You're proud of her... and a little bit proud of yourself.

(If you'd known then what would happen - that Jacob would ask you every summer when Bella was coming for a visit and that she wouldn't return to Forks for five years - you would have left her at home that day like she'd wanted.)

* * *

**April 2003**

His name is Phil.

What a stupid name.

Renee is over the moon. She chatters happily on the phone to you for over an hour, gushing about how _Phil_ is a baseball player, how _Phil_ loves to dance, how _Phil_ gets along great with Bella. (Why shouldn't he? He's closer to her age than Renee's.) They're getting married in a month, on the beach in San Diego, since that's where _Phil_ grew up and he just _loves _the ocean.

As she describes Bella's bridesmaid dress, you finally understand that she is never coming back. It only took you fifteen years to get it.

She invites you to the wedding. You politely decline.

That night you go on the worst bender of your entire life. You drink beer until the diner closes, then you stumble to the bar and drink whiskey until _they_close. The bartender is kind enough to steal your keys and make a few calls, and at three AM, it's Harry who drives into the parking lot and finds you puking in the bushes. You haven't thrown up from drinking since college.

Harry puts you in his car and doesn't say a word about the tears running down your face.

* * *

**June 2004**

"You might not want to go in there," Jacob warns when you get out of the cruiser. The boy is fourteen now (how did that happen?); his voice has dropped but he's still short. At the moment - sitting on the front steps of his porch, sharp elbows resting on knees, round chin resting on palm - he looks younger than he is. "Dad's not in a good mood."

You hear a crash from inside the house. Billy's throwing stuff. "What happened?" you ask, appalled.

"Becca," is all Jacob says.

A surge of horror runs through you as you jog across the yard. For years the twins had talked about how they would take a trip to Hawaii right after graduating high school. Two months ago they'd shocked everyone by actually purchasing plane tickets; apparently they'd been saving every dime from every babysitting job, every dollar from every table waited at the diner, all to fulfill their dream of lying on white sand and soaking up the sun. Billy had grumbled about how they could've put all that money to better use than a ten day vacation, but you could tell he was kind of proud.

Had Rebecca been injured surfing? Drank too much and been hospitalized? You flash to the station wagon wrapped around the tree and your heart speeds up.

A vase barely misses your head when you open the door. "Billy! What the hell, man?"

"That stupid little girl!" Billy's face is flushed, his temper having gotten the better of him for the first time in God-knows-how-long. He's looking around for more things to throw but nothing's within arm's reach of his chair. "I raised her better than this! _Sarah_ raised her better than this! Throwing away a _free ride_ to college! Her _whole goddamn future!_"

Rachel's standing in the kitchen. She's looking at her shoes. "Where's Rebecca?" you ask.

"Still in Hawaii."

You can only think of one thing that would both stop the girl from leaving the state _and_make Reed pull her scholarship. "She got arrested."

"No." Rachel's voice is toneless, like something's been ripped out of her. "She got married."

* * *

**May 2005**

There is one decision that defines the rest of your life.

She went on one date with Cullen and wound up in a hospital in Phoenix with a smashed leg and a cracked skull. When he shows up to take her to prom as though nothing had happened you know you should put your foot down and tell the ghostly little bastard to get the hell off your property. Bella is still seventeen, a minor, and completely within your care; with her broken leg she isn't even capable of sneaking out and disobeying you. Edward Cullen might be her boyfriend, but _you _are still her father, and she lives under your roof. You have every justification to demand an end to the relationship.

But Bella would never have forgiven you. She glows with happiness whenever the boy enters the room, and even though you have a sinking feeling about the whole thing, you can't bring yourself to take that light away from her. So you open the front door and let him step inside.

It is the biggest mistake you will ever make.

* * *

**March 2006**

Jacob Black is different the next time you see him.

It's not just that he's been through the biggest growth spurt you've ever seen. (Your cop senses are tingling - if it wasn't for the fact that this was _Billy's kid_ you'd wonder if it was a steroid thing.) It's not just the cropped hair or the muscles. Jacob is hard now. When he lifts his chin he radiates authority and not a little bit of arrogance. The features might still be there, but the _feel _of pretty, sweet Sarah Early is gone.

You wonder if it was your daughter that did this.

You hope not.


	11. Misc Prompts 8

**prompt: **_I have to admit that I felt really uncomfortable reading the second kiss and with Jake threatening with suicide and urging her on to kiss him whole heartily and not wanting to let her go...it left a bitter taste in my mouth (especially after reading it the second time)!_

* * *

_On-the-fly (ie, written in ten minutes) take on Jacob during the second kiss in Eclipse (without sugar-coating or excuses for his actions). Canon-compliant. _

* * *

You're an idiot. You're _such_ a fucking idiot. You've believed all this time that you were making progress, that there was still a chance - if not a chance for the two of you then at least a chance she wouldn't bleed herself dry for that leech, though let's be honest, those two problems are so tied together than they're now basically the same thing. She chooses you and life or she chooses him and death.

And she _has_ chosen. And she didn't even have the decency to tell you.

Right now you think you hate her more than you love her.

She cries and apologizes and talks about how she wishes she'd never met you (thanks for that) and how she's going to go away forever and basically martyr herself because she thinks it's going to fix all the wrongs, like there's _anything_ that can fix this except her staying alive. Which she's not going to do. She's going to marry him and the wedding will be a funeral.

Well. She's not the only one who can play the martyr. She wants you out of her life so fucking badly? You can do that.

You're just bluffing. (Probably. Part of you thinks you might not be.) And you know how cruel you're being when her faces pales and she starts to beg - but you know what? Tough shit. Why should you always be the one begging? Now she knows what it fucking feels like to watch someone you love choose to slit his own throat. And she doesn't love you half as much as you love her.

She says she'll stay. Like watching her get married and turn cold and hard would be better.

You tell her you love her. (And you hate her too. You _hate _her.) She tell you she loves you. (More than she thinks and not nearly enough. Maybe she's got the same hate in her body now.)

Then she offers you whatever you want, and now you're sure - she _does_ have the same hate. She wouldn't do this otherwise. And she doesn't fucking mean it. Not really. She knows what you want and it's not on the table and you're going to prove it.

So you ask her to ask you.

She does.

It takes you completely by surprise.

She's full of shit and you know it. It's not just a kiss you're asking for - it's what a kiss would be. It's a chance to _prove_ it, to _show _her what the two of you could be if she'd just stop pretending so damn hard. She's been pretending so hard the entire time, and now you know that she's never going to stop, that there's nothing you can do to make her stop. She's bluffing, just like you were, and you're not going to let her trick you. Not again.

But she repeats it.

You don't have time for this. You need to get down to the fight. You're not going to let her trick you. You _aren't_.

But because you're an idiot and you love her more than you hate her and you're not ever going to be able to stop, you take this last chance.

You kiss her.

_She doesn't kiss you back._

It _was_ a trick. It was all a fucking trick. Unless she really thinks this is enough? That letting you press your lips to hers while she stands there as unmoving as the statue she's planning to become (no doubt wishing you were _him_) is going to placate you?

She thinks you're going off to kill yourself. She thinks this kiss might stop that. _And she won't even kiss you back._

Well, fuck this. She offered you a kiss - a chance - and you're going to take it.

You try harder, helping her fake it (this girl has made you sink _so _fucking low, but hell if you're already at the bottom you may as well break the shovel as you keep digging), and for a moment she responds. Your heart leaps - and then, of course, she tries to pull away again.

_That's_ how much your life is worth to her.

For a moment you seriously consider stopping the bluff and just letting the newborns tear you to pieces. It can't be much worse than this.

Well, if you're going down then you're going to take her with you. She'll go off to her fucking happy ever after but you'll make damn sure she carries the guilt of your death with her, because apparently she's not going to carry anything else of you. Otherwise you'll be forgotten the minute his teeth sink into her neck.

And when you taunt her she finally kisses you back the way you knew she could. She responds. Her hands fist into your hair and did you seriously get through to her, is this another trick or false hope or dive off the fucking cliff no she's actually pressing herself closer now and she kisses you even after you stop kissing her and she _does_ love you, holy shit she really _does_.

And you are not _ever_ going to stop fighting.


	12. Misc Prompts 11

prompt from reasoningwithvampires: What did Charlie and Bella **do **on their two-week vacations in California during the summers before _Twilight_?

_Pre-Twilight. Canon-compliant. Rated G._

* * *

**San Francisco, July 2003**

_Day One_: Charlie arrives at the airport at 10:30 AM and waits for Bella by her gate, even though there is no fast food inside the security zone. He munches on beef jerky from the news stand; he reads Sports Illustrated three times through. Bella's plane lands at 6:15 PM. They murmur greetings and do not embrace. Bella's first notable emotion is to show alarm that their hotel rooms are even adjoining.

_Day Two_: Bella discovers that San Francisco is foggy in the morning. Bella despairs of ever seeing the sun again for the rest of her life. The haze burns off at noon, but the breeze off the bay is cool. Bella despairs of ever being warm again for the rest of her life. Charlie asks Bella what she wants to do. Bella says she's too tired to go out. They spend the rest of the day in separate hotel rooms, Charlie watching ESPN, Bella reading classic novels and moping.

_Day Three_: Charlie and Bella decide to see a movie. Charlie suggests _Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines_; Bella suggests _Sea Biscuit_. The compromise is _Finding Nemo_. They stay through the end credits so that both have time to come up with neutral, unloaded things to say afterwards.

_Day Four_: Renee calls and talks to both of them for four hours. Bella lies that she's having a great time. Charlie declines an offer to come to Renee and Phil's wedding in October, siting nonexistent prior commitments.

_Day Five_: Charlie and Bella take a trolley ride through the city. Charlie buys Bella a San Francisco sweatshirt when she can't stop shivering. He asks if she wants to stop in Chinatown for lunch; Bella says MSG gives her a headache. Charlie says she got that from him. Bella asks Charlie why he suggested it, then. Charlie shrugs.

_Day Six_: Charlie and Bella go to Ghirardelli Square. Charlie gets hit on by a fifty-year-old woman in a semi-mullet who says she's from Cleveland, but she visited Seattle once, isn't it awfully gloomy up there? Charlie does not know how to extract himself from the twenty minute conversation and gets light-headed from all the blushing. Bella hides behind a stand of hot chocolate mixes and dies of embarrassment.

_Day Seven_: Charlie tentatively suggests a game at the new SBC Park; Bella resigns herself to an evening of sports. Sidney Ponson gives up seven runs in two innings. Charlie has five beers, which do not affect him at all, and Bella eats a basket of garlic fries that make her sick. Both are surprised by the vehemence of the fans' hatred for the LA Dodgers, particularly considering the Giants are playing the Rockies.

_Day Eight_: Charlie and Bella stand outside of a sushi restaurant with skeptical looks. Charlie says they can go in if Bella wants. Bella expresses a deep suspicion of eating slimy squares of raw fish. Charlie agrees whole-heartedly, and also — while emphasizing repeatedly that he is not racist — admits that he has questions about a culture that does not have the sense to light a fire under its food. They smile at each other in understanding. Two locals entering the restaurant give them both dirty looks and mutter to themselves.

_Day Nine_: Charlie asks Bella what she thinks of Phil. Bella, sensing danger, replies non-committally that for someone so young he seems all right. This is the first Charlie has heard that Phil is closer to Bella's age than Renee's. He spends the rest of the day moping, behavior which Bella considers to be childish in the extreme.

_Day Ten_: Charlie stays at the hotel; Bella walks along the bay and enjoys an afternoon that reaches the eighties. She reflects that she is a sun-and-warmth kind of girl and that nothing will get her back to Washington.

_Day Eleven_: Charlie and Bella depart. Charlie suggests Bella come to Forks next summer; Bella suggests Charlie come to Phoenix. They agree on Santa Monica. Bella promises to call when she gets home. They hug awkwardly before they part ways. Bella forgets to call.


	13. Erotica Relocation

As many have heard, FFn has decided to (after ten years of not giving a shit) begin enforcing their anti-erotica rules. As a result, about half of the prompts in this fic have been relocated. All may be found now here:

**AO3:**  
http (colon-slash-slash) archiveofourown (period) org (slash) users (slash) audreyii_fic

And, as always, everything is available on here:

**LiveJournal**:  
http (colon-slash-slash) audreyii_fic (period) livejournal (period) com

Sorry about the inconvenience; I don't like it any more than you do, believe me.

* * *

As a side note, for any who may be interested: the lovely **Mera Naam Joker** and myself created an **original fiction short story**. Mostly because we were tired of writing virgin!sex.

**_Facilitators_ for Kindle:**  
amzn (period) to (slash) PGSlnL

(Allow me to assure you that this story would not, under any circumstances, be permitted on FFn under their erotica guidelines.)


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